


You Were The Last Good Thing About This Part of Town

by tyler_writes



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: F/M, Fall Out Girl, Payton Williams, You Were The Last Good Thing, You Were The Last Good Thing About This Part of Town
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-24
Updated: 2015-09-08
Packaged: 2018-03-14 21:42:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3426560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tyler_writes/pseuds/tyler_writes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Payton is a 23 year old girl from a small town in the middle of absolutely nowhere. In the wake of an event that crushes all her dreams and plans, she runs off to LA and auditions for The Voice, which begins the most drastic  and exciting change of her life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1.1 This Is the Story of How They Met

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a loss that completely sidelines all of her plans for her future, Payton sets off to LA unsure of what--or who--she will encounter there.

 

Episode One: Hello

 

Part One: This Is the Story of How They Met

 

 

_ Tap. Tap. Ta-tap. Ta-tap-tap. _ Rhythms in her head flowed around her thoughts in a chaotic, messy swirl.

 

_ Breathe. 1. 2. 3. Breathe. _

 

The muffled sounds of the miked judges could be heard from the waiting area. She had no idea what they were saying, but it sounded like they were giving praise. That could be good or bad for her. They were in a positive mood, which was good, but that also means that her competition was talented so she may not even be good enough to make it to the first round.

 

_ This could suck. _

 

A stage hand tapped her on the shoulder. “You ready?” he prompted. She shook her head in agreement and stepped up to the stage.

 

_ What if they don’t like you? What if you don’t give enough on the low notes? What if your voice cracks on the high ones? What if you forget the bridge again? What if…? _

 

_ Breathe. Breathe. _

 

She stepped onto the stage to see small crowd of seated spectators and the backs of the judge’s chairs facing her. She had less than three minutes to convince them she was talented and worthy of being on their televised talent show. Yes, it was cliché, and yes, she probably had no chance.

 

But you do what you have to.

 

The drums begin, followed by screaming guitar.

 

“ **_ Say my name and his in the same breath, I dare you to say they taste the same…” _ **

 

The judges had listened to wannabe artists all day long now. Tired of hearing people that just weren’t good enough, they had let the last artist through just barely, and only because their country music representative, Blake, had liked him enough to press his button. But, as this new song began and a rich mezzo-soprano voice rang crisp through the evening air, their ears perked.

 

Christina sneaked a look at a puzzled and pleased Adam. Blake nodded his head to the beat and chuckled as the contestant, who was clearly there with the sole purpose of impressing them, sang “ **_ I don’t care what you think as long as it’s about me _ ** …” Cee-Lo, too, was impressed by her transitions and ability to bring energy to notes that were obviously a bit lower in her range.

 

Adam knew he would press his button, but he took a sneak peek at his friend on the front row, Patrick Stump. Patrick’s band, Fall Out Boy, had recorded that song years ago. 

 

Patrick hadn’t even planned on being here, he was just in town that night and wanted to check it out since he had signed on to be an advisor later in the season. He was jamming out to her singing as much as the judges were. Their eyes met for a second as Adam pushed his “I want you” button and turned his chair around.

 

And he was so glad he did so. Standing before him was not just some girl who could sing, this was a performer. Her unnaturally red hair hung in curls to the middle of her back and her light blue eyes matched the anger in her voice that came from the song’s independent minded lyrics.  She was average height and slightly below average build and she was working the stage like a pro, jumping up and down and giving off and electrifying energy that was rare on the stage of The Voice.

 

Christina, Cee-Lo, and Blake followed his suit. Cee-Lo was jamming even more as she approached the bridge to the song.

 

All the judges had turned around. They all wanted her on their team.  _ I’m in this. I can do this. This is awesome.  _ She hit the bridge with all the sass that she had within her.

 

**_ “I said I don't care just what you think as long as it's about me. I said I don't care just what you think as long as it's about me. I said I don't care!” _ **

 

**_ “I don’t care!” _ **

 

_ What the actual fuck?  _ Patrick Stump was standing next to Adam’s chair and had just answered her “I don’t care” with the echo part that the backup singers would usually do. 

 

She was barely able to get out the next line due to shock, but still he answered her with an echo.

 

_ Patrick Stump is singing with me. Patrick from Fall Out Boy. He’s singing. With me. He’s singing the backup part. _

 

She choked back mingled panic and shock as she continued the song.  **_ “I!” _ **

 

**_ “I!” _ **

 

**_ “Don’t!” _ **

 

**_ “Don’t!” _ **

 

**_ “Care!” _ **

 

**_ “No, I don’t!” _ **

 

Her confidence now partially restored, she tried to finish off the song in a solid way that would make Patrick and the judges proud.  _ Patrick. Patrick from Fall Out Boy is here. _

 

**_ “The best of us can find happiness in mi-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-sery.” _ **

 

Everyone clapped and screamed their appreciation. Their appreciation for her. Because she did it.  _ I did it. _

 

Adam was the first to speak. “Wow! That was really good. Props to you, girl. What’s your name?”

 

But Adam Levine wasn’t registering in her head at that point.  _ Patttriickkk Stump _ .  She felt like a deer in the headlights now. He was looking at her with a smile on his face.  _ On his stupid, cute face. _

 

“Patrick, I think you scared her.” Adam laughed. She suddenly realized that other humans existed again.

 

“Oh, hi, hey, sorry. Just a bit--shocked. I mean, I played your song. I’m sorry. Let me start over. I’m Payton. It’s great to be here. Thank you for having me.” All the words were 

too fast and jumbled but at least she was breathing again. That was a plus.

 

Christina smiled at Payton warmly. “Cute name! And you’re super cute, too! Nice outfit!” She exclaimed, pointing to Payton’s black converse, patterned black panty hose, black leather strapless mini dress and red flannel lumberjack style shirt.

 

“Ha-ha, yeah black and red are my colors. Thank you!” Payton replied, gesturing to her flaming hair.

 

“But obviously, we didn’t turn around for you because you were pretty.” Cee-Lo added. “You really do have a nice set of pipes, and I think you should be on my team because you’ve got some funk in your voice, and that’s something I know.”

 

“Hey, wait, hold on, I haven’t got to even say anything yet. Don’t start that already!” Blake interjected. “Listen, I know I’m just a country artist, but I think that—“

Christina interrupted Blake. “Yes, he’s a COUNTRY artist! You’re not a country girl! You’ve got a different kind of fire, I can tell. You need to be with me! I can totally—“

 

“We all know what team she’s picking, guys. You can stop now.” Adam looked very pleased with himself.

 

Payton was confused, so she responded to him. “Why do you think I’m going to pick you?” She chided at him.

 

“Because,” he began, “Patrick Stump is one of the advisors for my team.”

 

“CHEATING!” Blake called from across the room. “You can’t do that! That’s not fair.”

 

“ALL is fair in love and war, my blue collar friend!” Adam yelled back.

 

But Payton was just dumbfounded.  _ Patrick Stump could be her advisor on the show? What? How? Huh?  _ “Wait, wait, wait…So, if I join Adam’s team, Patrick would help me one week?”

 

Patrick nodded. “Yeah, yeah, I’d love to help you! Though you already sound phenomenal so I don’t know what I could do to help.”

 

_ He spoke to me. Patrick Stump spoke actual words to me. _

 

“So, who do you chose?” Adam prompted.

 

She paused a second to formulate a good answer for the cameras, which she finally noticed were hovering awkwardly all over everything. “Well, I actually grew up listening to country music, so Blake, you were one of my favorites, and Cee Lo and Christina, you both are inspirational artists with amazing talent, but…Adam cheated and won.”

 

“YEAH!” Adam jumped out of his chair and ran over to the stage and bear hugged her. Everything was hazy. The lights, camera, sounds, people, all of it. She was on The 

Voice. She could win a record deal. She could actually do this.

 

After the hugs she followed the path back to behind the set like the stage management team had instructed her to before the audition. In the dark hallway she didn’t notice she had been followed.

 

“Hey!” Patrick Stump said as he tapped her on the shoulder.

 

She froze like a rabbit caught in a hunter’s aim.  _ What do I say? What do I do? _ “I LOVE YOUR BAND” she squeaked out quickly.

 

The slightly shorter man chuckled. “Hey, would you like to get coffee sometime? I won’t be your official advisor until much later, but you seem cool. I’d like to get to know you a bit.”

 

A blank piece of paper had replaced her brain. “Uh, uhm, um, ah—Yes. Yeah. Uh. Oh. Would you like my phone number?”

 

“Yes, if that would be the best way of reaching you. I’ll give you mine, too! But don’t go sharing it with other Fall Out Boy fans, you hear!” They both laughed awkwardly like new acquaintances often do.

 

So they exchanged numbers, Patrick went back to his seat, and Payton filled out the necessary paperwork. They told her to come back at a specific time later that night for a debriefing. Stepping into the cool LA night air, she felt more grateful than she had ever felt in her life. She auditioned and made it, which had been her dream this morning, but she had also met the lead singer of her favorite band ever, and that was also wonderful.

 

She sat on a bench, looked at the stars, and wished Jacob had been there to see it too.

 


	2. 1.2 New Friends Are Golden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After her successful audition, Payton is finally meeting her idols, but will it be everything she ever thought it would be? Who is Jacob? Did her and Patrick ever actually get coffee?

Episode One: Hello

Part Two: New Friends Are Golden

            “Dude, stop it! It’s not like that. She’s cool, I swear.” Pete had been annoying Patrick with comments about his new “friend” all day, and he had finally snapped back. “We’ve just had a few meals together and worked on music. And you’ve been following her, right? She’s doing amazingly well!”

            It was the quarter finals of The Voice already. Payton and Patrick had gone for coffee the week after her audition and he had discovered that although she was a crazy Fall Out Boy fangirl at heart, she was also remarkably sweet hearted and talented to boot. However, despite what Pete was saying, he was **_not_** developing a crush on her.

            “We’re going to be late for practice.” Andy chided in, always the responsible one of the group.

            “Yeah, come on guys. The rehearsal room is just down the hall and around that—“ But before Patrick could finish Pete dashed down the hall.

            “I’m going to beat you and make sure she falls in love with me so you can’t have her!” Patrick gave an exasperated sigh that was echoed with a chuckle from the amused Joe Trohman and a snort by a dumbfounded Andy Hurley. Contrary to what he said, when the boys rounded the corner Pete was still outside, peeping through a mostly closed door to the room. “Shh!” He whispered at them. “She’s playing.”

            In the room Payton was sitting alone against the base of a couch. Her back was mostly to the door, so she did not notice the boys listening in. She picked out a few chords _D, G, B minor, G…._

“Am I more than you bargained for yet…” She began quietly.

Outside, Pete gasped. “She is pretty good! And completely in love with our band!” Payton, still unaware of their presence, continued to play the unplugged electric guitar and her singing slowly became more pronounced as she sang the first chorus. With the crew outside watching, she stood up and started to dance around happily to the second verse.

“Is this more than you bargained for yet, oh, don’t mind me, I’m watching you two from the closet…”

Patrick, who had been silent, felt the urge to join her. It just felt right. “Isn’t it messed up, how I’m just dying to be him?” He sang as he walked into the room. Andy followed, tapping the beat out on furniture and walls as he went, forever the loyal drummer.

Payton stopped. “Ah-I!”

Patrick cut her off. “Keep going, you were so good!” He handed her a mic from the corner where the equipment had been set up for them.

“I’m just…a notch in your bedpost…but…you’re just a line in a song….” She continued shakily. Fall Out Boy was in her presence, and she hadn’t told Patrick that she still resisted the urge to pass out every time she got a text from him.

Patrick backed her up. “Drop a heart, break a name…” They continued into the chorus together as Andy found his drums, and Joe and Pete grabbed their guitars.

Unable to believe what she was hearing and seeing, Payton forced herself to loosen up and act like she normally does when performing. She jumped around and had a good time. _I’m having a jam session with Fall Out Boy. FALL OUT BOY. PATRICK IS SINGING WITH ME AND PETE IS LAUGHING AT MY DANCE MOVES AND JOE IS PLAYING GUITAR WITH ME AND ANDY IS KEEPING THE BEAT FOR ME._

“A loaded god complex, cock it and pull it!” Patrick and Payton ended together. Her heart had to be going 200 beats a minute. She looked around but was unable to process what she saw and felt.

A “Great job!” came from Pete as he patted her on the shoulder. “You’re even better than Patrick!”

“Hey!”

“But he’s still prettier,” Pete replied, wrapping his arms around his now uncomfortable friend.

“Dang it, Pete! Let me go!”

 

 

 

 

 

           

            “I apologize for my friends back there.” Patrick said quietly. The practice session had ended about an hour ago, and after a quick and awkwardly silent meal they had ended up on a sidewalk in Santa Monica. The quickly fading light obscured their Payton’s face, and between the silence and the awkward meal, he was sure that the men of her dreams hadn’t turned out like she had expected.

            But she replied with a “What?” Her easy stroll, which had matched his effortlessly, halted mid-stride. “You—you think that I was…disappointed? Or that I didn’t have a good time?”

            “Well, yeah, they were a bit rowdy, and Pete was Pete and…I thought we could have gotten more done, you know? I thought you expected more of us.”

            “What!? No! No, it was wonderful! I am so grateful! You have no idea how happy I was today. I learned so much, and we are definitely ready for the performance tomorrow night.”

            Patrick was confused. “But…okay.” He realized he might have misread the situation. Now that he thought back, Pete hadn’t been that bad at all. He was his usual charming self. And Andy and Joe had given good impressions. But, why did he care anyway?

            Payton leaned into him as a cool March breeze blew through the night air. The simple gesture meant more for her than it did for him. “By the way,” she continued, “Thanks for siding with me on Alone Together. I like it more than Light ‘Em Up, and I feel like it's better on both our vocal ranges.”

            “Yeah, no problem.” He returned her awkward hug by putting an arm around her slight waist and looping his finger in the belt loop of her shorts snugly. He didn’t want to admit he would miss their late night walks. She seemed to always hold something back in public, put on a face that hid the darkness underneath, but when it was actually dark outside she would sometimes let that out, and he liked it.

            She pulled away. She didn’t like that he'd put his finger through the loop on her shorts. Jacob used to do that. She liked when he did it, but not Patrick. He looked hurt at her mild rejection, so she begrudgingly explained. “ _He_ did that.”

            _Oh_ , thought Patrick _, him. The fiancé. The dead fiancé._

            She had settled twenty hours away from him and everything that should have reminded her of their life together, and yet here he was. His ghost. Interrupting her life yet again, as if he didn’t already do so enough in her nightmares.

            But Patrick tried to understand. “Would you like to talk about it?”

            “There’s nothing left to say,” she replied. Silence filled the blank space. Patrick gave her a look that said he knew she had more to say, so she begrudgingly obliged. “I keep having the dream, the one where he’s being hit by that car? Except, **_I’m the car_**. I’m what is killing him. It’s me. And even though I rationally know that it wasn’t my fault he was in that accident in the first place, it still hurts. I still blame myself. Because no matter how you slice it, he was still on his way to my graduation, so in some small way it is my fault.”

            Patrick listened, but couldn’t believe what he heard. “No, no, no, it is not, Payton. It was just a freak accident. You need to let this go. It’s not your fault.”

            The stress of the past few weeks and the weight of her own guilt finally caught up to Payton as her eyes began to well up with hot tears. “But—Ah—I—“ Patrick, unable to deal with her emotional turmoil nor help her in any significant way, crushed her into a hug in the middle of the Santa Monica sidewalk.

            “He is **_so_** proud of you right now, and so am I.”

 

 

 

 

            Payton jabbered excitedly with Misty Ray and John Gary, the other top three finalists, during the commercial break. One of them would be going home tonight, the other two would be moving on to the finals. Her performance with Fall Out Boy had gone splendidly well a few weeks prior, which gave her enough momentum to make to semi-finals. Last night’s solo performance had, according to the judges, lost some of her usual spark, and so she was a bit more than worried.

            The stage manager announced that the commercial break would be ending in a few seconds, so Misty, John, and Payton put on their TV faces, getting ready for the big reveal.

            “Viewers, thanks for tuning in to The Voice!” the bright, shining host said to the camera. “You’ve joined us at a wonderful time, since we are just about to reveal our Top 2!” The crowd cheered enthusiastically as the camera panned over the hopefuls. “Will it be the heartthrob with a soul voice, John Gary? Or possibly our Country Diva with a city flair, Misty Ray? Or Payton Williams, the adorable punk rocker from Oklahoma?”

            After more cheering and fanfare, the host finally got down to business. “After tallying results from around the nation, the person we are so sad to see go tonight is…. Payton Williams! Payton, oh no! We’ll be so sad to see you go, honey. It really was a treat to have you on the show!”

            The camera panned out. The host said goodnight. Payton was still sitting in her stool in the center of the stage next to John and Misty. “Hey, you okay?” Misty asked understandingly.

            “Yeah. Yeah. I’m fine. Good luck, by the way,” she replied, shakily getting up. Adam walked up to her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

            “Sorry, kid! You really are talented though.” As he spoke, he led her off the stage and toward the back of the studio. His rambling bounced off of her crushed mind like a billion bees trapped in a glass box. Once inside her dressing room, he shook her back to reality. “Are you hearing me, Payton?”

            “Wha—what? I’m sorry, I was just a bit shocked.”

 

            He looked at her sympathetically. “I said, we may be able to get you a record deal anyway. I mean, you’ve got real talent! I’m still in your corner.” He handed her a card. “Give that guy a call, let him know you know me, but he should already know about you anyway. Maybe this is the best thing for you.” Adam turned to leave, giving her a quick final hug before opening the door to find Pete Wentz leaning against it with a his ear at the crack in the door.

            “Sorry, Adam!” Pete interjected, jumping over to Payton and taking her hand. “She has other plans.” With a sly wink, he drug her from the dressing room and through the studio, into the night air, and down the sidewalk.

            “Pete, what is going on? What plans? What are you even talking about?”


	3. 2.1 All I Got Was

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Payton figures out what the heck Pete is up to, and gets a nice surprise.

Episode Two: Welcome

Part One: All I Got Was

 

“Really though, what is going on?” Payton asked for what felt like the 7 billionth time. They had stumbled down the sidewalk, around several different corners, and must have been a mile from the studio by that point, and yet Pete had given her little new information.

“I told you, we’re going to have drinks with the rest of the guys.” She was beginning to get annoyed. What if she didn’t want drinks? What if she wanted to go cry in the floor of her tiny apartment and think about how she was a loser who couldn’t win a stupid televised singing competition? Fed up with being told what to do without any context, she halted resolutely in the middle of the walkway.

“I’m not moving another step until you tell me what is going on,” she said, her hand still in Pete’s as he tried to drag her around another corner.

“That will ruin the secret, though! Just come on.” Still Payton resisted. “Listen,” he continued, after he stopped yanking on her arm, “It’s me, Pete Wentz. From Fall Out Boy. Whom you love. So come on and let’s go hang out with Patrick and Joe and Andy. The bar is just around the corner. Andy said he has vegan cupcakes.” Still skeptical, she took a tentative step toward him. “And he had them leave a few unfrosted just for you!”

And, well, Payton did always say that if they get unfrosted cupcakes for you, it’s true love.

Upon entering the bar Pete led her by the hand to a secluded corner with a large circular booth. Patrick’s shining face beamed back at her happily, as a grimly smiling Andy clinked ice in his glass of water.

“Hey! You made it!” Patrick exclaimed. “Sit next to me?” He gestured to the center of the booth. As she sat, Joe walked up with a bottle of champagne on ice.

“Fancy,” she said from between Patrick and Pete. “What’s the occasion?”

“You!” Pete replied, with much more excitement than she could have even dreamed of mustering at that moment.

“Uh, you do realize I lost, right?”

“Join the club,” Joe added, pouring drinks for everyone. Payton laughed. Fall Out Boy wasn’t a bunch of losers. They were super talented dudes who had just come off of a hiatus in a big way. She didn’t deserve to sit squashed between the four of them in a bar in LA.

“Okay,” she began, “I’m going to be totally honest here. I have no idea what is going on. Pete wouldn’t tell me anything. Am I missing something here or--?”

 “We want you to join the band,” Pete and Patrick said at the same time.

 “You said I could tell her!” Patrick started, looking at Pete angrily.

 “No, I said I would! It was my idea, I should have gotten to tell her!”

Their bickering continued, but Payton heard none of it. She stared at her untouched glass of champagne. _Wait. What. Fall Out Boy. Me? A member? No. I’m from a small town in Arkansas. Fall Out Boy doesn’t even know who I am. I'm no one. They didn't actually ask. This is a joke or something. Obviously._ But, as she looked around at the young men at the table, she realized that maybe she had heard correctly. She took a long drink from her glass. She looked at Andy. “Really?” she whispered.

 “Yeah. Really,” he smiled back encouragingly.

 After a few more breaths to clear her head, she broke up the brewing fight between Pete and Patrick. “Hey, guys…how…how is that going to work? You already have a singer?”

 Patrick responded quickly. “We can both sing. I think your voice blends excellently with mine. And there are times when I wish I could just sing, or just play guitar, instead of doing both, so you would be _so_ useful then. Also, there are songs where I would want a piano and two guitars or something—“

 “Basically, we’ll make it work. But we are trying to tour this summer, starting around May, so we would only have a month to practice, and also announce you to the world, so it would be a tight schedule,” Pete explained, smiling reassuringly, saying _Come Join Us_ with his eyes.

 “I—uhh—wow. Just, wow. Okay. Um.”

 Joe, already on his second glass of champagne, interjected, “So are you in?”

 “Yeah, yeah. I think I am.” She smiled sheepishly at all of them, wondering how she seemed to be so lucky. _How is this even real? What is going on? Am I dreaming?_ She pinched herself just to be sure, but the boys were still passing around cupcakes and alcohol, talking about sets and chords and all the things Payton had dreamed of being a part of.

She looked at Pete to her left, with his laugh that filled up the room and his constant need for human connection. His arm was around her shoulders. Patrick’s hat was crooked on his bespectacled face as he talked with her about what songs they should trade off on. Joe was switching corny jokes with Pete and Andy at the end of the booth, and the straight edge vegan was giving her a sideways look every now and then, knowing just what it was like to suddenly be accepted into the group and embraced as one of their own.

“Hey Pete, pass me some of those cupcakes.”

After watching Joe and Patrick consume more alcohol than should be allowed, Pete and Payton said goodbye to the rest of the gang and began the walk back to their respective apartments, which fortunately were in the same general direction. Clouds overhead threatened to burst forth cold rain into the already chilly March night.

“Thanks for walking with me, Pete.”

“You’re one of us, now.” He grabbed around her waist, a welcome comfort from her new friend. “We’re the only ones that can mess with you.” They laughed loudly. A second language had already begun to form between the pair, as if they were somehow kindred spirits.

“Ha, great. I’m is **_such_** safe hands. I have three hobbits and a drunk for protection.” She meant it all light heartedly, but there was truth in her sarcasm. Pete was only an inch taller than her, her and Andy were both 5’6”, Patrick was the pint-sized, and Joe had taken enough shots that night to kill an elephant, which she found more impressive than annoying.

At that moment mother nature decided she didn’t like them. Thunder sounded through the air, and lightning lit the sky. Within a few moments, it was raining buckets. “Whoa!” shouted a startled Pete, “Come on, my place is just a couple blocks away. You can wait it out there.” And they dashed off into the night, taking a left and then a right until they reached a classy apartment building on a secluded side-street. At the second floor a now soaked Pete unlocked the door with wet, shaky hands, and they pushed inside, safe from the brewing thunderstorm.

“Sorry to put you out like this,” Payton began.

But Pete wouldn’t even let her think like that. “No, no way! You’re fine. It’s fine. Honestly. And if you wouldn’t be uncomfortable I’ve actually got a guest bedroom that I think is acceptable for sleeping, because I’m not sure this will blow over quickly. I can also call you a cab.”

Payton, although her only thought before had been getting out of the wet and cold, now had other ideas. “No, I can stay here. It’s after midnight, so I don’t think it would be a big deal.”

“Cool,” Pete said, and he went to what she assumed was the guest room. “This is the guest bed, and over here,” he said, pointing at the room on the opposite end of the hall. “Is where I can be found if you need me. There is probably absolutely nothing of value in the fridge, but you can try if you want, and the bathroom is next to my room.” He leaned against the wall somewhat awkwardly, but probably unaware of how attractive he looked in the dim light with his soaked clothes.

Payton laughed. “What if I want to sleep in you room instead?”

Pete rolled his eyes, misunderstanding her intention. “Well then I can sleep in the guest room.”

Payton laughed and raised her eyebrows suggestively. “That’s not what I meant.”

Pete did not laugh. He was much too quiet for a few tense seconds. “Listen, I know you must be a bit excited and maybe a bit drunk but relationships within bands usually aren’t a good idea, Payton, and…”

“Okay, one, I’m not drunk. I had one shot and one glass of champagne. And that was a while ago. I know exactly where I am, who I am with, and what I am saying.” She paused, wording her next sentence carefully. “Listen, I don’t want to be in a relationship with you. That’s not what I’m looking for here.”

He was still confused. “Then, what do you want?”

“I’m an adult. You’re an adult. We have…needs. I just would rather satisfy those with someone that I trust and who cares about me than with total strangers, you know? I thought you would agree and understand that.”

Understanding and conflict crossed his face. “So…you want to just sleep with me? No strings attached, no labels, just sex?”

“Yeah.” She smiled and leaned against the opposite wall of the hallway. “And, any time in the future, if you’re a bit lonely, then I’m here.” She waited anxiously for a response. He was difficult to read, but he looked somewhat apprehensive still. “Don’t tell me you don’t want to.” She continued, noticing telltale physical signs in his body and face. “Your pants are looking particularly tight right now,” she paused,“I’m sure taking them off would help that.”

The look he gave her could only be described at predatory. Closing the distance in one smooth stride his lips crashed into hers with enough force that she wondered if it really was possible to bruise your lips from kissing. His entire frame smashed her against the wall as they kissed passionately. His hands, still cold and damp from the rain, snaked under her shirt to caress the skin on her stomach. The icy touch left her shivering for more and caused her to buckle against him.

He finally let her breathe. “Are you sure?” he whispered breathily in her ear.

“Yes, but I would like to find a bed,” she laughed, as being pinned against a wall was not extremely comfortable. He pulled away slightly, grabbing her hand as he went. He led her to his bedroom and laid her softly on the springy mattress. His tenderness after the attack on her senses before was surprising and welcome.

He laughed as he climbed on top of her. His forehead touched hers and they breathed each other’s scent. “You’re the best friend I could have ever asked for. Gorgeous as hell, voice like an angel choir, and **_so_** nice to me.” He chuckled and that sexy smile almost killed her. “Thank you.” He said to her, clear in the darkness.

Unable to process it all, she just replied with a smile, saying, “Kiss me, you idiot.”


	4. The Rest of Episode Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Payton eases into life as a member of Fall Out Boy, all is not well. At least, emotionally. Through bad jokes, awkward interviews, and good fun, she adjust to her new life.
> 
> TW: Possibly non consensual sex? Both parties are fairly intoxicated, but there is nothing rough, and both people say yes to sex, but they both are impaired by alcohol.

  
  
  


Episode Two: Welcome

Part Two: I’m Not The Desperate Type

            Sunlight filtered in through the blinds over the window next to the bed, waking Payton. She felt lighter than air but smelled like post-sex sweat. Pete was lying next to her, snoring away. His peaceful sleeping face was one of the sweetest things she had ever seen. As she turned around she realized she was still wearing his Rancid T-Shirt over her naked torso. _How had that happened again?_

_**‘Okay, okay so then the guy says to the bartender….…hey, are you cold?”**_

**_‘Yeah, a bit.’_ **

**_‘Here, take my shirt.’_ **

**_‘Haha, well aren’t you domestic tonight!’_ **

**_‘Don’t you mean this morning? I think we’ve hit the 2 am mark.’_ **

**_‘Well it’s good we’ve already fucked then because you know what they say about things that happen after 2 am haha!’_ **

_Yeah. Pete and I stayed up really late talking after we slept together._ Which, by the way, had been a wonderful experience for the both of them.

            **_‘You wanna play 20 Questions?’_**

**_'Of course!’_ **

            It had started out fun and innocent, or as innocent as you can get when you have two people laying mostly naked in a bed together.

            **_‘What’s your favorite color?’_**

**_‘Periwinkle. How do you order your coffee at Starbucks?’_ **

            But, eventually, they ran out of easy topics and had to push it further.

            **_‘Tell me about Jacob.’_**

            Payton had pretended she had fallen asleep and hadn’t answered that one. Now, in the dim light from the closed window, she wished she had the courage to tell him. He had been so open and honest with her last night, satisfying her desires, then bearing his soul, but she had been reluctant to share anything.

            Preparing to sneak out and do the walk of shame back to her apartment, she sat up on the edge of the bed and looked for her dress. “Where do you think you’re going?” came from behind here, where Pete had woken up and realized what she was about to do. He sat up too and slid over to the edge of the bed next to her. “Don’t go.” He said softly, laying his head on her shoulder. His fluffy, unkempt hair tickled.

            She chuckled. “Why not?”

            “Because we have stuff to do. And you need to shower and eat and then we should go do that stuff. Also, you should never have to take a walk of shame. You are welcome here always, whether it is in my bed or not.”

            She was not aware she had plans. “What do you mean, ‘stuff to do’?”

            “I made a few calls last night, while you and Andy were watching Patrick do drunk karaoke.” They both laughed, remembering their friend having a good time. _Bandmate_ , Payton thought, _not just friend, bandmate_. “You’ve got a meeting with some of my friends at Clandestine at 11 to talk about your image and wardrobe for the tour, at noon we’re eating with the record label reps to talk about money and contracts, and then we we’re going to have a first practice session together, which was Patrick’s idea.”

            Payton seemed daunted. “Full schedule. What time is it?”

            “9:34”

            “Yikes, okay let’s get up—“

            “Would you like pancakes or cinnamon toast? I will also make bacon.”

            “Cinnamon toast all the way, of course.” She smiled back. Pete Wentz was going to cook her breakfast.

            “Okay, you go get in the shower, and if you hear fire alarms it is probably safer to just stay in there.”

 

 

            If the first night as a member of Fall Out Boy had seemed like a dream, then the following two weeks had been an acid trip. Practices were going great. Pete, always in her corner, haggled with the record company enough to get her a cut of Fall Out Boy’s cash, almost equal to the other four's, with an offer to re-sign after the tour.

            “They’re just worried you won’t prove yourself, that’s all,” Pete assured her. She had gone shopping with some PR specialists from Pete’s clothing line to find some killer outfits, and so far they’d had a moderate amount of success, and to top it all off she had moved in with Pete a week after their tryst at his apartment. They hadn’t had sex again, but he would often come into the former guest room, which was now hers permanently, and wake her up just so he could hold her. He seemed like he needed someone there for him, and she was happy to relieve his loneliness.

            “After we split up, I was so lost,” He would tell her. “I just—I didn’t know who I even was anymore. I think there’s still a little bit of that left, you know? Fear.” Sometimes he spoke in a way that made her 100% sure he wrote all those beautiful lyrics that her and Patrick sang, but other times he’d say things like, “That dog is super frickin’ cute! I want one! Can we get one? Please?!” and Payton would just laugh at how silly he was.

            At practices, Joe taught her guitar chords and riffs. “Okay, so when you’re doing The Phoenix, the chord progression is…” Pete would mess around, make business calls, occasionally serious enough to actually practice. It drove Patrick crazy and it was hilarious to watch. Patrick was a no-messing-around kind of guy. He worked with her individually a lot, which was important since even after several months on The Voice, she was still prone to not warming up enough and straining her vocal chords. Andy would just chill in the back. He knew all of his parts and could play them flawlessly. His level of skill and commitment was something Payton definitely admired, but contrary to what the other boys had said so far, she didn’t think of him as funny or entertaining yet. He rarely talked, and even less so to her.

            It was with these memories in her head that she woke up on the day of her first interview and photoshoot as a member of Fall Out Boy. Pete peeked in the door after she got out of her shower with his hand over his eyes.

            “Are you decent? I want coffee. Do you want to get coffee?” Standing in her underwear she sighed in mild annoyance.

            “Not really. On the decency thing. Not the coffee thing. Yes, I want coffee. Of course I want coffee. And a blueberry muffin.”

            “Well, I’m opening my eyes because this is weird.” He did, and immediately became very interested in a stack of books by her bed, but she caught his eyes lingering for an extra second.

            “I’ve told you, I don’t mind. You’ve seen me naked, Pete.” Payton said laughing as she pulled on her new black skinny jeans. They were mid-rise, which covered up areas around her waist that she was self-conscious about, while also being extremely flattering to her legs.

            Evading the subject, Pete gave some well needed fashion advice, still not looking at her. “You should wear that tight white tank we got from the merch designers, but because it’s April you can wear one of the button downs over it.” As she pulled on the first shirt he approached her. “The blue one looks good with your eyes.” He said as he pulled it from her closet. He was holding something behind his back.

            “Thanks, I am clueless. Teach me your ways, oh master of making a fool of yourself with fashionable clothes.” Payton teased making them both smile. “What do you have?”

            “Nothing.” He smirked mischievously.

            “Pete.” She pulled out the ‘don’t make me do it’ tone of voice that all mothers use on unruly children.

            “I’m just going to borrow it for the interview!” He said as he ran out into his living room.

            “Borrow what?!” She chased after him. He tried to evade her by running around the couch, but she countered by always being on the opposite side. Eventually she became fed up with the cat and mouse, and lunged over the couch at him, which caused Pete to fall onto the couch with Payton and the thing he had stolen.

            She snatched the item—a book—from his hands in the chaos. “ _Gray_? You took my copy of _Gray_? Don’t you have your own copy? You wrote it!”

            They righted themselves and Pete blushed. “I—I saw it on your nightstand and wanted to sign it for you and give you a nice note and then give it back in the interview so that the interviewer would see how sweet and lovable you are.” Payton was silent. “And I wanted you to have a signed copy. Because I like you.”

            “You know, I was reading it again so I could remember all the questions I wanted to ask you when it first came out, back when I was just a fan.” She was blushing now. She was deeply embarrassed by the fact that she was still, at heart, a crazy silly fangirl for all of them. Really. Pete, recognizing how important that was to her, wrapped his arms around her small shoulders and kissed her on the cheek several times. “Sorry I ruined your idea, it was really sweet, but I’m sure you can figure something else out.”

            “Yeah, except now it will probably be much more sappy and embarrassing. Your fault!” His laugh warmed the room and her heart. “Go fix your hair or something so we can go get coffee and muffins!” He said, pulling her up.

            “Only on one condition.”

            Puzzled, he asked her “What?”

            She smiled playfully and handed him _Gray_. “Sign my book.”

 

 

            A video with clips from the interview with Alternative Press came out a week later. Payton and Patrick were working on the chorus of Light ‘Em Up, deciding how to do the “I’m on fire!” part in a way that would showcase both of their voices. Pete, who had been outside talking to someone on the phone, rushed in and grabbed his backpack.

            “The interview is up!” He exclaimed excitedly.

            “Which one? We’ve done about 13 thousand in the past year alone.” Joe replied mockingly.

            Pete rolled his eyes. “Payton’s first one, duh.” She jumped at this and rushed over to Pete, who had gotten out his laptop.

            “Guys, listen, I know we’ve been at this for hours and it’s almost seven but we really need to nail down that part in My Songs. We only have a couple weeks until—“

            “Hey, killjoy, take five minutes out of your life and watch the damn interview.” Pete snapped. They were like a married couple whose kids had left the house and now they had to face the fact that they both were old and had little common ground left. It was hilarious for everyone watching.

            Sighing, Patrick sat next to Payton, his arm around her shoulder. She was very aware of his presence. At this point she was used to Pete, Andy, and Joe, but Patrick still gave her chills. His presence was magnetic on her. She was sure everyone but him had noticed.

            After the intro music played, the nice interviewer, Kevin, introduced the new band:

**“Hello, world! Thank you for watching Alt Press Video and you’ve tuned in at a great time. Today with me I have Fall Out Boy, but as you can see there is one face we may not all recognize. We have the privilege today to announce to you that as of last month, Fall Out Boy is no longer a four piece, but now a party of five! Welcome, Payton Williams!”**

            The entire interview was happy like the intro. He had asked her all sorts of questions, some of which were easier to answer than others. There were things like:

**What was it like to not only meet your favorite band, but become accepted as one of them?**

            _“Uh, awesome.”_

**How did you all change up the setup to accommodate her?**

**What sort of energy do you think you bring?**

            _“Well, I have a lot of stage presence, which will be fun to play with. I like to jump around a lot when I’m performing.”_

            Those were all fine and great, because the answers were easy and Pete had coached her a bit. Also it was nice because everyone chimed in at different times, so it wasn’t just Payton talking alone. However, not all the questions were nice:

**Some fans are not as excited as you guys seem to be. Why do you think that they feel this way?**

            “ _People can’t easily accept change.”_

**Are you worried about relationships within the band causing a second, more permanent hiatus?**

            _Pete was unhappy with that question and they basically ignored it with a simple “No”._

**Who was Jacob Ross?**

            _That one hurt, and she did not want to answer. “My fiancé.” wasn’t the same as “The love of my life whom I will miss until the day I die.”_

            After the video was over, Pete insisted on reading the comments, which was never good. They were unsurprisingly divided. Half of the audience was all for her becoming a member, citing her time on The Voice and the ever changing style of the band, but others were more resistant to change. Some of them were gross or violent, saying she was hot and they wanted to do things to her. That made Payton uncomfortable.

            Patrick looked as conflicted as she felt. “Don’t worry about those people commenting, we’ll make sure nothing happens to you.” Andy chimed in.

            “Yes. Of course.” Pete added reassuringly. But she wasn’t completely convinced, and as everyone said their goodbyes for the night she decided she may need to do more than just go home and goof around with Pete.

            “Hey, Joe, didn’t you say you had a friend you were going to go watch do a show later?”

            “Yeah, I’m heading there now. Wanna come with me?” He asked as he packed up his guitar. “He sings and stuff. He’s okay, but mainly I just want to go have a bit of a party, you know? We’re leaving for the tour so soon so I want to soak up the LA nightlife while I can.”

            She stopped. _Do I really want to do this again?_ Yes, she did. She definitely did. “Well what are we waiting for?”

            Three hours later her and Joe were on their fifth round of shots at the bar. She had no clue what the singer’s name was, which bar she was at, or even why she had come in the first place, but…. _Wait, Jacob. That’s why. Jacob. Jacob. Jacob_. She knocked on the wooden bar top. “Mitch, another round please!”

            “Well you’re better at this than I thought you would be.” Joe laughed, almost as drunk as her, but since he was taller he probably held his liquor better.

            She giggled uncontrollably. “Well you’re not too bad yourself, you know?” She pushed him and he almost fell off his chair. The next round of shots appeared and she drank it immediately. She needed to feel the burn down her throat, to watch the world go out of focus until she couldn’t remember anymore.

            “I’m pleased that I won’t be the one with the drinking problem anymore.”

            She scoffed a bit too loudly. “Drinking problem, I don’t have a drinking problem!” She tried to get up but almost immediately fell over again, with Joe catching her at the last second.

            “I’m not carrying you all the way to Pete’s house. I live right down the street. I’m taking you there and you can sleep this off on my couch.” A bit unsteady himself, Joe supported Payton with one arm as they walked the couple blocks to his house. When they finally got to the inside of the house he started to set her gently on the couch but she pulled him down with her. Joe was now in an awkward position. On the one hand, there was an extremely hot girl underneath him that had pulled him on top of her and was now kissing his neck, but on the other hand they both were drunk and that was not a good idea.

            “I never noticed how crazy hot you can be, Joe.” Payton knew that this was a bad decision. She hadn't completely lost her mind from the alcohol, but she also realized that drowning the pain may not work tonight, and Pete sure as hell wouldn’t sleep with her when she was drunk. _But Joe might._

Especially when he’s drunk, which he was, but she was kissing him, strong deliberate kisses that left his lips feeling fuzzy, or maybe that was just the drinks. Next she was sucking on his neck and feeling under his shirt, trying to take it off. He had the foresight to coax their escapade into his messy bedroom down the hall, but his shirt was left somewhere in the hallway. Back on the bed she never let up. She was rubbing and caressing everywhere that she shouldn’t have been, and whether he liked it or not this was happening. He had to admit though, he was liking it. “I really hope we don’t regret this in the morning. Maybe it’ll quiet the hangovers.” He laughed as he pulled off her shirt.

            She smiled back. “We probably won’t remember.” She joked, wishing that she could forget everything else as easily, as she pulled Joe back down on her, begging him to drown her sorrows in lust.

 

 

Episode Two: Welcome

Part Three: It’s Just Fire Alarms And Losing You

 

            _“Listen, Joe. I’m sorry about last night. I got a bit out of control. Please don’t take this personally, you were great (I promise). I’m just not wanting a relationship now. That’s why I won’t be there when you wake up. I’d appreciate if you didn’t tell the guys, and I hope this doesn’t mess up our friendship. Like I said, you really were fantastic, I was just drunk and overwhelmed with things, and I shouldn’t have pulled you into my mess. See you later, xoxo.”_

            That was the text she sent Joe at 7 AM the next morning as she walked down the street back to her and Pete’s apartment. _Why do I always pull people into my own shit like this?_ She was frustrated, slightly embarrassed, but not mad that it had happened, as long as Joe wasn’t expecting more from her than a one-night fling. She rounded the last corner and took the flight of stairs two at a time, unusually happy for how early it was. She opened the door quietly, expecting Pete to still be asleep, but as she entered the living room she saw him sitting there with some coffee, intently reading something on his phone.

            He didn’t even look at her. “Well, you were out past curfew.”

            His words stung a bit; his tone wasn’t exactly lighthearted. “I wanted to have fun.”

            He turned to Payton, who was standing across the room from him, setting down his phone. “I thought you weren’t interested in doing strangers anymore. I thought that was why we were a thing.”

            Should she tell him? She should. She definitely should. But she really didn’t want to. “It…it wasn’t exactly a stranger…really…”

            Slowly, it dawned on him whose house she just snuck out of. “You slept with Joe? Joe Trohman? Our Joe?” The look on her face gave him all the answer he needed. “What, was I not good enough for you? I thought you didn’t want an actual relationship, Payton. I thought that was why we were just friends who fuck, and not actually dating. I thought—“

            She was tired of his berating. “Hey, no, stop, you don’t understand, okay? We were drunk. I hadn’t planned on having sex with him, I just thought that he would be fun to drink with, then I needed someone, and I thought you wouldn’t even want to mess with me when I was drunk, so I just stayed with Joe.” Her hangover was pounding in her head, making this whole situation even worse. “But you don’t have any right to judge me, I never made you any promises in the first place, Pete!” she yelled, despite the pain in her head.

            Pete looked affronted. She had a point. They had no formal agreement on this. “You’re right, I wouldn’t have slept with you when you were that drunk. But, you could have come home and hung out with me and I would have been nice to you like always and helped you with your hangover this morning. You know there are healthier ways of dulling the pain than drinking and sex.”

            She hadn’t realized he had been that perceptive. “I don’t know what you’re talking about” she lied. They were both silent.

            “Well,” he continued, “joke’s on you because I knew after the interview you might be a bit bummed and I got you a present, but I don’t know if I’ll even give it to you now…”

            “No, hey, wait that’s not fair! You know I hate surprises!”

            He laughed mischievously. “Or maybe I'll just show you, but not give it to you.”

            “How would that even work?” she replied as he walked off to his room. After the open and close of doors and the banging of objects being pushed around, he returned with his hand behind his back. “What’s that?" she questioned eagerly, "Show me! Please!?!”

            His wicked smile told her that she might not actually want to see this gift. He brought his hand around to reveal a set of black leather handcuffs. “I listened," he said quietly.

            She had always been fascinated with mildly kinky sex, and she shared that with him in their twenty questions session. She suddenly felt hotness brew in her lower stomach. “Have I ever told you how amazing you are?” She took a step toward him, laying her hands on his solid chest.

            He backed away. “Uh-huh, we don’t have time, you got plenty last night by the sound of it, and I would like to torture you, because you’re cute when you’re frustrated.”

            She glared at him angrily, realizing she probably lost. “Tonight?” she asked hopefully.

            “Probably not,” he replied, a sadistic smile taking over his face. He was not going to give into her so easily this time. Exasperated, Payton marched off to her room like a child who had been told they couldn’t have candy. “You’ll thank me later!” Pete called after her.

 

 

            They had been driving for about an hour. Pete attempted to be entertaining from the driver’s seat, but his inattentiveness to the road only made Payton more anxious. Patrick was on Twitter, arguing with someone about Peterick, again; Joe was sitting next to her playing games on his phone; and Andy lounged up front reading a book about evolutionary theory. She was just trying to read the treatment for the Death Valley video in peace, but it wasn’t easy with four bored men in the car with her.

            “You know, I never really read those, they’re kind of useless,” Joe said. Things had only been slightly awkward after their drunken encounter, so that was a relief. Now, a few days later, it was as if it had never actually happened, except that Pete was still taunting her with the handcuffs.

            “Well, when something happens that freaks you out, I'll just laugh because you didn’t do your homework.”

            Patrick looked up from his phone. “I used to not read them, and then in the last video I got an impromptu lap dance that really freaked me out. Now I read them, in depth.” Everyone laughed.

            “Yeah, impromptu. Right, Patrick. You totally didn’t enjoy that,” Pete chided at them, which caused him to swerve.

            “Watch the road, and yes it was more strange than pleasing. I was very confused.”

            Andy snickered. “Hey, don’t laugh, lover boy,” Pete added quickly, “You get some action this time around.”

            That got Andy’s attention. “What?!” he said.

          Joe muttered,“Why do I never get a girl?”

            Pete laughed. “You have to kiss Payton.” This was news to her. She hadn’t gotten that far yet.

            “What?” she exclaimed. “We haven’t rehearsed that!”

            Patrick jumped at the chance for a good line. “Hear that, Andy, she wants to practice kissing you.”

            Payton flushed red. That is not what she had meant. They all were laughing at her embarrassment, so she struggled to change the subject. Finally, Pete took a turn off the highway. “Are we almost there?”

            “Three minutes, folks,” he said, and then, in his best impression of a pilot, “Passengers, please stay seated until the vehicle is no longer in motion. I ask you to buckle your seatbelts for our descent and—“

They had arrived. The old military base looked shabby from the outside, but it was apparently perfect for the video shoot on the inside. She exited the car as soon as they stopped, resisting the urge to run around. An important looking young guy came over and introduced himself as Paul. He pointed out the different trailers, telling them where to go and what to do. Payton had to go to hair and makeup to be ready for her part with Pete and Andy later on.

          They did lots of things to her that were not pleasant and took a long time. After her false eyelashes had to be redone a third time, the women in the makeup trailer rushed the rest of it just to get her incompetent body out of the room. After the hairdo and makeup, she was ready for her costume, which was all leather and very sexy. “If I'm a good guy, why do I look like all the rest of them?” she asked, to which they replied that she used to be one of the gang members, but now she’s a spy sent to help Fall Out Boy.

The concept was cool, but she was still unsure about kissing Andy. She would kiss Joe easily, she would have a hard time keeping Pete from kissing her, and she fawned over Patrick enough that a kiss from him would be more than appreciated, but Andy? She just wasn’t sure, so as soon as she was ready to go, she went to find him. He was in the lounge trailer, which was just a few couches meant to be a comfy waiting area. He was dressed vastly different from his usual tee shirt and shorts attire, in a well fitted denim jacket and jeans.

“Hey,” she said casually, distracting him from his book.

“Hey,” he replied, disinterested. He returned his attention to the book. She was nervous, but got the courage to sit close to him on the couch.

She cleared her throat cautiously. “So, um, I was just wondering, if you did want to practice that kiss once or twice before, you know? I just don’t want it to be awkward in front of the cameras and waste peoples time.” She said this much too fast, and it was a miracle he even understood it.

Setting the book down, he smiled at her. “You do realize this sounds like a ploy by a 7th grader to get a girl to kiss him, right?”

She blushed, and he took that as a yes. Without warning, he leaned in, their lips connecting. She was too shocked to actually respond, so she just fell backward against the couch. He pulled back and laughed. “Hey, wait, stop, I wasn’t ready yet—sorry.”

Between laughs he tried to communicate. “—how—about we—stand up—then?” They did, and faced each other awkwardly. “Middle school dance, anyone?” he teased. But, a second later, he was much more serious, taking her hand and wrapping it around his waist. He closed the distance between them easily, and as they kissed tentatively, Payton saw fireworks going off. _Okay, wow, he’s actually good at this._ It didn’t stay slow and sweet for long, though. After a few seconds they gripped each other tighter, his tongue slid into her mouth gracefully, and she really was enjoying herself.

Suddenly, the door burst open. “Okay, love birds!” Pete said, unable to control his laughter. “Save it for the camera!”

They immediately broke apart. Both were slightly embarrassed, but Payton was also pleasantly surprised. She had underestimated Andy Hurley.

“We were practicing,” he said defensively.

"Well, go practice in front of the camera. They’re ready for us.” Payton rolled her eyes, following the boys out to the abandoned warehouse where they would be shooting.

“Really though,” Pete continued, “We don’t want any Fall Out Boy children, now.” He raised his eyebrows suggestively.

She was incensed. “As if you have any right to say—“ she began, but he was already scooping her up in a bear hug playfully, distracting her from their pointless argument.

           

Episode Two: Welcome

Part Four: Sunshine Into My Veins

The next day would be the first day of the tour with Fall Out Boy. Well, not with them. She was one of them. She was in Fall Out Boy. It still seemed all too crazy to be real. Each day she got to wake up to Pete being a completely lovable idiot, rehearsed everything a billion and one times with Patrick, played games (usually poker, winner buys lunch) with Joe, and got hard to read looks from Andy, which both embarrassed and intrigued her. Since their kiss on the Death Valley video a few days prior she had thought of him more than usual.

            Now they had just finished a final practice and were loading their equipment onto the trailer. The shiny new tour bus, parked next door, was being loaded with a few suitcases of clothing (all of hers were custom by Clandestine, so she had a few awesome outfits to choose from), and her and Pete were both acting like clocks that were too tightly wound. Anxiety plagued both of them, but today it had taken over everything.

            And to top it all off, Pete was still refusing to use the handcuffs. They had only slept together that one time in a whole month of her being in the band. It was frustrating, but she knew she had sort of brought it on herself. _But doesn’t he want me too? Or does he just have better self-control?_ These questions plagued her at night and frustrated her each morning as he walked around the kitchen shirtless. It wasn’t fair.

            She had been too stressed to listen to much of the conversations up to that point, but when Patrick mentioned they should all go out together for one last hurrah, she was all for it. The club they chose was more upscale than she had seen in the past, which the boys explained was due to the fact that they couldn’t go anywhere without being recognized, so they chose less popular places to hang out and not be disturbed. A few people seemed to notice them, but kept their distance. Once they caught someone taking a photo of the five of them at their table, but that was the most encroaching thing all night.

            “That’ll happen a lot more on tour,” Patrick said when Payton looked around for where the flash had come from. “You’ll get used to it.” At that point a remix of a Danzig song came on, which surprised the hell out of Pete. Payton, who liked the remix and who had felt grounded to the table way too much all night, jumped up and backed slowly into the dance floor, giving Pete a taunting look the whole way.

            He followed her silent orders. What she didn't realize was that staying away from her the past week had been not very easy. Several nights he wanted to go crawl into her bed and just enjoy her presence next to her, but he knew letting her hang for a few days would just make the satisfaction better in the end. He found her jumping up and down excitedly in the middle of the crowd, which had turned into a tame mosh pit/grinding session. Everyone around them had no clue who they were, and that was exactly what they wanted.

            As the pace of the music quickened, Payton was pushed against him by the people around them, and they dance-moshed together, their bodies sharing the same space and their lungs breathing the same air. The song ended too soon, and Pete, the old man, began to go back to his seat, but she recognized the next song and wanted him for a bit longer.

            “Please?” she pleaded, as Not A Bad Thing by Justin Timberlake was drowned out by the DJ calling all the lovers out to the floor, “This is one of my favorite songs.”

            He smiled at her, but inside he was hurting. She would dance with him all night, kiss him in the most intimate ways, and hold his hand on the way to get coffee in the morning, but she wouldn’t tell anyone what they did or what they were. Hell, to her, there wasn’t anything to tell. But he couldn’t tell her no, not when she looked so beautiful, with her flushed face and sweaty hair.

            Wrapping one arm around her waist and placing her hand in his, he realized that maybe those prep school dance lessons would finally be of some use to him. They began to move in time to the music. Payton, with her several years of dance training in college, was even lighter on her feet than Pete. “You’re a good dancer,” she said, smiling. Pete thought she was practically glowing, which, after how anxious she had looked recently, was a welcome sight.

            “Yeah, well, it helps to have a good partner.” He smiled back. “I didn’t realize that you were a JT fan. I have his phone number.”

            Her jaw dropped. “NO WAY!” she squeaked loudly.

            “Yes, way. Speaking of Way, I also have the Way Brother’s digits if you are a My Chemical Romance fan, and I’m surprised we haven’t hung out with Brendon Urie since you’ve been around either.”

            She was going to die from excitement and happiness. “You could really help me meet all those people?”

            He blushed slightly at her admiration. “Yeah, I mean, you’re in Fall Out Boy now. You can meet almost anyone. I got to meet the President last year!”

            “That is so cool!” she began to say, but as the song ended the girl next to her caused her to trip, sending her headfirst into Pete.

            “You really aren’t that good at this balance thing, are you?”

            “It’s my most endearing quality. I’m constantly a damsel in distress. It makes me less intimidating.”

            He laughed. “Yeah, well, I think you’re absolutely terrifying.” She bared her teeth in a cute grimace, which just made him chuckle more. A new song replaced the slow one, and their moment was all over now. “I’m going to go take a leak, and then go back to the table. Don’t talk to strangers,” he said, wandering off through the crowd.

            “But then how will I make friends?” she called back. But apparently, nobody wanted to be her friend. She danced alone to an upbeat pop song for a couple minutes as bodies sloshed and shifted around her. Without warning, a hand wrapped around her waist. Assuming it was Pete again, she turned around to see an unfamiliar tall man standing behind her.

            “Dance with me, pretty,” he said. She tried to back away, but he flipped her around and held her against him as he jumped around to the music. After he groped her breast, she broke free and tried to weave through the crowd back to the safety of the boys, but he grabbed her by the hand. “What’s your problem, honey? Don’t you want some of this?”

            “No, please let me go. Now.” she said, resisting him. But he was really big, and she was losing. The people around her didn't even notice as he yanked on her arm roughly. She seriously considered screaming out as a flash of black came out of nowhere.

            Standing in front of her was Andy Hurley, his knuckles split from what she guessed was the punch he just threw at her aggressor. She was shocked. “Leave her alone!” he growled at the confused guy on the ground.

            “Guys,” Patrick began, appearing behind them. Joe was standing a couple feet back, and she spotted Pete coming through the crowd to see what was going on. “We should leave.” They all swiftly agreed, and after speaking briefly with the manager of the club to assure their innocence, walked out into the night air. Joe called a couple cabs.

            “You are just a bundle of trouble, aren’t you?” Pete asked rhetorically, but Payton was just staring at Andy, who wouldn’t look at her.

            “Thank you,” she said, but he still didn’t respond. Leaving Pete’s side, she tapped Andy on his firmly muscled shoulder. “Hey, I said thanks, for that. I appreciated it. I’m glad you stepped in before it got worse.” More awkward silence. “Would you like me to look at your hand?”

            “No thanks, I can take care of myself,” he replied. She strangely felt hurt. Did he not think she was capable? Was he annoyed that she had gotten herself into that situation? It wasn’t her fault though, she had barely had anything to drink, and that douche approached her.

            “Fine,” she said coldly as the cab approached them. Pete opened the door and they settled in together, saying goodbye to their bandmates and reminding each other of the early morning they had to look forward to.

            With the cab door shut securely and the privacy flap up, Pete finally got serious. “So, are you okay?” he asked gently.

            She was silent for too long. “Not completely. That was strange, with the creepy guy, and Andy. I mean, I’m not hurt, and that’s not the first time I’ve had unsolicited contact with someone, so I mean I’m not in shock—it was just, weird.”

            She curled up in the seat and laid her head on his shoulder, which made him smile. “That’s good, that you’re okay, I mean. I shouldn’t have left you out there.”

            “Whatever!” she countered, “I can take care of myself. If Andy had waited just one more second I would have gone all Taekwondo on that loser.  He would’ve never seen it coming!” Pete’s chuckle died as they approached their stop. They paid the cabbie and climbed the steps wearily. Once inside, Payton stretched her arms above her head, making sure that the bottom of her shirt rode up enough to flash her stomach at Pete. “So,” she continued, “If you don’t have any plans then I’m going to just go to bed now.”

            Pete, well aware what she was doing, could not control the fact that seeing the soft skin near the hem of her pants was actually really enticing. “Plans? Oh, well I thought that maybe we could watch late night infomercials?” He took a step closer to her, but she took a step back, which made her one step closer to his open bedroom door. “Or…maybe talk about how our painful childhoods have fucked us up as adults?” He took a few more steps toward her. She let him chase her slowly. Almost to the door, she interjected, “We can compare our bipolar disorder episodes and talk about how many people have tried to label us as crazy.” They stopped at the door to his bedroom. She was leaning against the door frame.

            She took a long step toward him, closing the gap, and placed her hands on his chest. Her fingers grazed him lightly as her hands wandered further and further down, to settle under his shirt. He was going to let this go as long as she wanted it to, because as far as he was concerned, he lost this battle the moment she invited him onto that dance floor. Her teeth softly met the skin on his neck, under his right ear, which she had learned from the last time was a sensitive area for him.

            After she took off his shirt, she started to unbutton his jeans and he stopped her before it became too much. “You’re stubborn, did you know that?”

            “I prefer to call it persistence," she replied as he held hands so she would stop touching him.

            “I think I figured out what I want to do.”

            “Really?” She asked, expecting to hear another infomercial joke.

            “There’s a pair of handcuffs that I’ve been dying to use on someone recently.”

 

 


	5. Episode 3 (all)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Payton's first days on tour are full of pleasant surprises, including tears, bunk beds, CDL's, old friends, and spilled secrets.

 

Episode 3

 

Part 1

 

            Payton stared at her closet, overthinking what she would wear like she always did. The apartment was surprisingly cold, but it may have just been the fact that she was dripping wet. And that a few minutes before everything had been really hot.

            When she had crawled quietly out of Pete’s bed, which was difficult with him wrapped around her, she had expected a nice, calm shower before their big day, but that plan was interrupted when he had burst into the bathroom.

 

            “Ah!” He exclaimed, covering his eyes, but smiling. “I didn’t hear the shower running.”

            She laughed as she lathered her thick red hair. “Stop being such a child. As if you didn’t see me completely naked less than 8 hours ago.”

            He looked at her outline through the frosted glass. Enough was obscured to leave his imagination to wander, but not enough to keep him from wanting her again. “In that case,” he began as he took off his trunks, “I think I’m going to join you.”

            He opened the door and climbed in, reaching for his bottle of shampoo. She was shocked, but not unpleasantly so. “What do you think you’re doing?”

            He smirked and handed her loofah to her. “Multitasking? Saving water? Enjoying the view?”            His mischievous smile had become too much for her to resist, so she played along and gave him a quick kiss. “What is…” he tried to mumble through the water and her mouth around his but eventually he gave in and just went with it. This was, after all, a perfect way to wake up in the morning.

            Needless to say, his shower was not peaceful. And now, here he was, mixing his and Payton’s coffee while she spent way too much time picking out an outfit. Unfortunately, he knew exactly why she was taking too long. The only people that would see her before the concert tomorrow night would be Andy, Joe, himself, and Patrick. She was trying to impress one of them, and he was fairly certain it wasn’t him.

            A bit of fire sparked in his gut. She slept with him. She poured her heart out to him. She was his best friend, and he was hers, but he wasn’t who she really wanted, and a blind and deaf person would have been able to see that. The person she wanted more than anyone else was—

            “When do you think Patrick will be here?” Payton asked as she sat down next to him at the small table.

            “If he is on time, which he is never on time, then he will be here in about 10 minutes.”

            They both were shocked by that number. She laughed and punched his arm playfully. "Sorry, my shower took a bit longer than usual.”

            Her lighthearted spirit lifted his mood. “At your service,” he replied with a wink. “Really, though, do you have everything?”

            “Yep!” She replied, but it was almost a squeak. She pointed to her faded gray, Fall Out Boy photo covered messenger bag. Pete smiled.

            “You’re bringing that?” He asked.

            Her face flushed bright red. She was especially embarrassed by all the hearts she had drawn around their faces. “I want people to know I am really just a hopeless fangirl at heart, you know.” Just then, there was a light knocking at the door. Payton jumped up. “I got it!”

            She opened the door to see a sleepy Patrick. “Hey, are you ready?” He asked, leaning against the door frame. Behind her, Pete was turning off all the lights.  He approached them at the doorway with an indecipherable facial expression.

            “Yeah, we’re good.” Pete’s backpack wasn’t as full as her messenger bag, which Patrick looked at and then resisted the urge to laugh at. Pete was better at this tour thing that she was.

            “You two look like you just got out of bed.” Patrick commented, pointing out their wet hair. “But—wait, don’t you only have the one shower, Pete?”

            Payton’s heart stopped. Nobody knew about her and Pete’s sexual relationship. They weren’t even actually dating, they just had slept together a couple times. It was uncomplicated, just like she wanted it, but she was afraid that Patrick wouldn’t understand and it would ruin her chances of getting to ever be with him.

            Luckily, Pete was on her side. “Yeah, Payton, why does it take so long for a girl’s hair to dry? I mean, I let you have first shower and yours still isn’t.” Patrick seemed convinced, and Payton was extremely grateful for his discretion. She smiled at him warmly but before Pete could smile back she noticed a flash of pain in his eyes that she wasn’t expecting.

 

            As they drove to the bus lot they all talked animatedly about how excited they were. They did not easily fit into the backseat of the taxi, but they didn’t have much of a choice. After the third time Patrick had elbowed her boob he resigned himself to putting his right arm around her shoulder, which she definitely didn’t mind.

            At the bus she didn’t know what to expect. Her actual bags had been taken there a couple days before by some crew members, including the bus driver and Marcus, who she had decided was wickedly cool. She was not expecting the bus to be as low-key as it was. There were no distinguishing markings whatsoever, and it was a dark gray and black. As they stepped into the blinding may sunlight she realized that may be a problem. “Guys, what if there are a bunch of buses? What if I get on the wrong one?’

            Patrick laughed. “Then we lose you and you’ll have to hitchhike to the next show.” Pete smiled for the first time in what had seemed like ages. “But, really, it’s for our safety. Fans can get pretty…crazy.” He nodded at her glittery messenger bag. “Especially teenage girls.”

            She glared at him. “Whatever, I am completely harmless!”

            “I don’t know about that,” Pete added. “If looks could kill…” They all laughed together. The ease at which she had been included in the group was astonishing to her, and she tried to cherish every moment of it.

            The inside of the bus what more like what she expected. To her immediate right was the driver’s seat, passenger seat, and a thick curtain that Pete explained was to separate the driver from the passengers so that we could sleep and he could drive. In front of her was a couch built into the wall of the bus. To the left was a half circle booth and table, perfect for 4-5 people. Then further back into the bus were a few cabinets with snacks, some closets, and general storage space. Finally a curtain pulled back to reveal the sleeping quarters. There were 3 bunk beds in a horseshoe shape around the back of the bus. One for each of the band members, one for the bus driver, and Marcus slept on the couch that turned into a bed in the front, because he was a bit of a snorer.

            With Patrick ambling around outside looking for Joe and Andy, Pete looked to be feeling a bit better. “I hope you don’t mind, but I picked out a bunk for you.” He said, gesturing to the one on her right on the lower level. She walked up to it and noticed a plastic grocery bag on it. Inside were Kit-Kats, her favorite pink lemonade mix, and a few bottles of Vanilla Frappuccino from Starbucks. “I knew you were afraid of heights, so I just wanted you to be comfortable—“ Pete was cut off by the sudden hug Payton gave him which knocked the breath out of him. “Oh, okay,” He continued after he was able to breathe again. “I did well?”

            She buried her smile in his neck. “Yes, very well.”

            “But you haven’t even seen the best part yet.” He add, pushing her gently away. He laid down on the perpendicular bottom bunk and slid his head toward hers. His face poked out from around the support beam and smiled up at her. “They’re connected!”

            She laid down on hers and met him at the intersection. “This is awesome! Did you plan this?”

            “Haha, no, but I agree it is pretty cool. Like an endless sleepover. I’m going to mess with you all the time now.”

            “Oh, I see, so you really don’t care about my fear of heights you just want to put whip cream on my face when I’m asleep.”

            The door to the bus opened loudly, signaling that they were no longer alone. “Something like that.” He said, getting up to greet a still groggy Patrick, disinterested Joe, and surprisingly happy Andy.

Payton said her hellos and unpacked her bag. She was grateful to notice that her clothes and some of her other items had already been put away in a special closet just for her stuff, but the things in her messenger bag still needed homes. She took out her phone and iPod, and put them in a little drawer under her bunk. She was trying to be more present, and since half of the songs on there were performed by the four men standing there with her she felt like she didn’t really need it anyway. Her snacks from Pete also went in that drawer. Her laptop went in another compartment under the bed, and so did her toiletries. She shuddered at the thought of having to go more than 24 hours without a shower, and was grateful for bringing extra deodorant and dry shampoo.

Finally, she reached for her photo album.             It was very simple, just a plastic cover that said “Memories” and 50 or so sleeves of photos. She liked that they were tangible, so that even if she couldn’t hold these people for real anymore she could hold their photos. She found herself accidentally thumbing through them. She looked at her mother, who lived somewhere out west. She wasn’t sure where. Her father, who was probably getting breakfast before going to work with the prison dogs for the day. Neither of them knew if she was dead or alive. Her lovely grandparents stared back at her from a few pages. So did her cousins, and her friends from college and high school. Finally, she ran into the last few photos. Her and Jacob at a concert. Her and Jacob in their engagement photos. Her in her wedding dress. Their invitations. Her graduation, with him not there, because he was lying mangled in a ditch after a drunk driver had collided with him at 70 mph.

 

Andy had walked in on Payton thumbing through what looked to be a weird book. He laid his knapsack on the bunk above hers, which didn’t look taken, and began to methodically organize his things. He hadn’t noticed her at all until she let out a sharp gasp. He ducked under his bunk and sat behind her on her bed. Her eyes were full of tears, and the book was in her lap.

“Hey,” he began, unsure what to say. He wasn’t gifted in this area like Pete. “How can I help?” Apparently, those were the right words because she turned and buried her face in his chest. He liked this.

Payton was embarrassed, hurting, and really needed a hug. And she didn’t want Patrick to see her like this and she had no idea what Pete was up to, so Andy would have to do. She liked that his chest was hard, like stone. It was oddly comforting. She felt safe there.           

After a minute or so she suddenly snapped out of it. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. You must think I’m a total mess by now.” She babbled, sitting back up.

Andy gave her a gentle smile. “No, you’re fine. A lot is going on. I don’t blame you for acting a bit crazy.” He picked up her book, which he immediately recognized was actually a photo album, and looked inside. She seemed hesitant, but she didn’t tell him to stop. On one side was a save the date accompanied by a photo of a very pretty blonde girl and a short brown haired guy. He suddenly realized the blonde was Payton.

 

You are cordially invited to the wedding of

Payton Marie Williams

And Jacob Samson Ross

On July 4, 2013

 

It was a cute, simple, card. Andy realized quickly that it had been the cause of her tears. She wasn’t looking at him, ashamed that something so small had affected her so much. He put the book down and moved his body so that his hand was behind her. They were close enough now to whisper in the shadow of the top bunk.

“Why do you keep this?”

She looked down at his tattoo-covered knees. “I loved him. He was a big part of my life for a long time, and he would be so proud to see me now. Whether I like it or not he’s a part of me, and I have to accept that. I just can’t seem to find a way to still love him and also function on a daily basis. I either becoming a sniveling mess of human in a puddle of tears on the floor, or I have to pretend like he never existed. It’s not fair.” She was on the verge of tears again, and her voice was cracking from the strain of holding them back.

Andy was still not sure what he was even doing there, but he took that as his cue to say something. Anything. But, he was never the greatest with words, so he started by pulling her to him with a tight hug. “Hey, hey, you’re alright…its okay. You’ll get better. He would want you to move on. To love other things. And people. And all of us—me, Pete, Patrick, and Joe—we’re all here for you.”

She let him hold her in his strong arms just long enough to make her feel better, but not too long. She didn’t want another situation like what had happened with Joe. As she pulled away she noticed distinctive redness on his right hand, and suddenly remembered his chivalrous actions from the night before. “Oh no!” She exclaimed, grabbing his hand gently. “Are you okay?”

He didn’t pull away, but he did wince. “Yeah, just bruised. The guy deserved it though.” It was swollen, but not badly. “I can play still. I’ve had much worse just from working out.”

She laughed. “Yeah, but you did that to yourself. This was my fault!”

His face dropped. “No it wasn’t. You did nothing wrong. That guy touched you and you asked him to stop, and since Joe was drunk, Patrick was scared, and Pete was gone, so I took care of it.”

His intensity surprised her. She also realized she hadn’t heard Andy Hurley speak this much to anyone about anything this much ever before, with the exception of those Rock Sound interviews she had watched a few months back. She felt privileged as she got up, making some needed space between their warm bodies.

“My hero.” She laughed warmly. “I’m going to go see what everyone else is doing. I love road trips.”

“Well, you’re in the right line of business then, aren’t you?”

 

 

 

 

Part 2

 

            The first night was exactly like a sleepover. They stopped for lunch in Albuquerque and she and Patrick tried to speak Spanish and failed miserably. By the time they had reached Oklahoma, familiar territory for her, she was almost asleep. She discovered that all of the guys were fun to play games with. They played poker with fake chips in a set that Joe had brought along, and she neglected to tell them she used to do that for money so they were surprised when she beat them in a lot of hands. Patrick and her sang a bit, and she did her best to sound as good as he did. She just felt like her voice wasn’t as rich as his. She was jealous. Eventually she decided to try to sleep, which wasn’t the easiest thing since she had been trapped on a bus all day.

            She discovered a small “changing room” that was basically a closet with a mirror, and put on her pajamas, which tonight consisted of a sports bra, fall out boy tank, and running shorts. Suddenly, she realized that until now only Pete had been around her in little clothing. She was a bit embarrassed. As she slide back the screen and stepped into the makeshift bedroom it was apparent that nobody cared as much as she thought they would. Patrick glanced up, his gaze lingered on her legs for a second too long, and then he went back to Candy Crush. Joe, on the bunk above him, tried very hard to not even look in her direction, but she could tell they both were thinking of that night their bare skin was intertwined on his mattress. Andy had a nice view down her shirt if he was looking, but he had his sunglasses on again so she couldn’t tell.

            As she climbed into her bunk she realized her pillow was at the wrong end of the bed and fluffed it in the spot so that when she laid down on her right side, her head would face Pete’s. He was already laying down, in gym shorts with his moderately chiseled abs for the world to see, messing around with Gerard Way and Mark Hoppus on twitter.

            “You’re an addict.” She whispered to the back of his head. He wasn’t startled because he had felt her hot breath on him a few moments earlier. He sat down his phone and turned around on his stomach, facing her head on. At that same moment Marcus came booming into the room.

            “I’m going to sleep, guys. I suggest you do the same. And don’t harass Payton!” He added, just for good measure, before flipping off the light. Payton laughed. It was like being in high school again.

            Pete’s face was faintly illuminated in the cell phone light coming from Patrick and Joe’s bunks. “I am not an addict.” He whispered back after a few moments. She smiled at him. Slowly, he reached up and felt under her pillow. She clenched in fear. Her photo album was under there. How did he know?

            But he was really just grabbing her hand. Their fingers intertwined easily, like tendrils of vines in a rainforest. “Thank you for saving this bunk for me.” He wasn’t looking at her anymore. His tired face was buried in his pillow, but he mumbled some sort of incoherent reply. Her last waking memory was of the warmth of his hand in hers.

           

            She was woken much too soon. The bus driver was crawling into his bunk above Pete, and Pete’s hand was gone. He was gone. Unsure of what was happening, she groggily crawled out of her bed and followed where the faint light was coming from. In the front of the bus Pete was slipping into the driver’s seat, now with a snapback and tank on so he looked slightly less sleepy. Confused, she settled into the passenger seat.

            “You can drive a bus?”

            He smiled wickedly at her as he pulled away from the rest stop. “When we were just a little band driving around I got my CDL so I could drive and we could save money on bus rentals and stuff. Now, I occasionally switch off with the driver so he can sleep. Especially on long days like this one. We’ve still got about 10 hours before we make it to Chicago.” He ended by pointing at the dash clock, which read 2:00 am.

            “But, don’t you need sleep?” She wondered aloud.

            “I just had 4 hours, and around 8 I’ll stop and wake Chuck up and he can take over the last bit.”

            It was silent for a few minutes. She realized his shirt was the same one she had borrowed the first night she had stayed over at his apartment. It was a Rancid shirt. “I’m going to stay with you.” She told him adamantly.

            She had expected a fight, but was surprised when he just said “I’d like that.” And kept on going. He was actually a pretty good driver, which was surprising for how fidgety and restless he was. They played music as they drove through the heart of the Midwest. She had a hard time staying awake, so Pete decided to play twenty questions again.

            After a question about the merits of Nutella had gone south, Payton was sure that nothing else would be that hard, but she was wrong when it was Pete’s turn and he asked “Why are you in love with Patrick?”

            “I’m not in love with Patrick.” Was her immediate answer, but he wasn’t buying it. He sat there, waiting for her real response until it got too awkward for her to ignore it. “Okay, okay. I just think that he is…really talented. I’m attracted to talent. I find that more attractive than a nice body or hair or intelligence or a good sense of humor. I mean, you’re talented, but Patrick is just…”

            Her voice trailed off, but Pete asked another question. “Why did you even just compare us?” he sounded hopeful for some strange reason.

            “Uh-huh!” She said, grateful for an excuse to not answer that one. “It’s my turn now.” He looked amused, but there was still a serious air about him that made her uncomfortable. “So, why did you pick my bunk next to yours?”

            Pete thought for a while longer than she wanted him to. “Well, I want to be near you. Because….I like you. I care about you. A lot…and…I want you safe. And happy. I thought it would make you happy.” Then he smirked playfully. “Plus, you know, the other night you were begging for me so I felt like you’d want me close to you.” She resisted the urge to hit him really hard on the arm and laughed loudly instead. “Yo, this is a good song, though. And it’s about time to wake up Chuck.”

            He was right about both. It was after 7. The sun was just rising over the flat plains ahead and she felt as free as the sunrise air. “Don’t freak out, but I’ve always wanted to do something.” She said as she rolled down the window. Contrary to her request, Pete did start to freak out as she put first her head then her upper torso out the car window. She made sure to hold onto her seat belt though.

            “Are you okay?” He said loudly out the window at her.

            She breathed in the aroma of asphalt and cool night air. “Yeah, I’m awesome.” She replied, sinking back into the passenger seat. “I’m alive.”

 

           

 

Part 3

 

            The meet and greet was making her nervous. When they arrived at the massive arena early in the afternoon, she was shepherded off the bus by men in black shirts that read “STAFF’. They led her to a large room with a bathroom off to the side that said “Fall Out Boy” where she changed into her outfit (a white, strapless crop top, black skinny jeans, black boots, and a red plaid button down, left open, all courtesy of Clandestine) and did her hair and makeup. She tried to put eyeliner on Pete, but he ran away, yelling something about being too old for that anymore.

            Finally, they were yet again shepherded, this time to an area backstage where at least a hundred people, mostly young women, were lined up and screaming. _Did I look like that? God, this is terrifying._ She resisted the urge to vomit, and apparently it showed on her face.

            “It gets better, I promise! They’re here because they love you!” Patrick assured her.

            Boy, was he dead wrong. The first couple groups were fine. Photo, smile, high five, one girl even gave Payton a hug. They were nice. Then, two very pretty girls came up and asked her to step out of the picture so they could “get a photo with the real members of Fall Out Boy.” She was obedient, because she was too hurt to respond, but Pete drug her back into the group, telling the fans that they either got all or nothing. This made the managers angry, because these people were paying a ton of money to be there, but Pete didn’t seem to care too much.

            After those girls nobody was so blatantly rude, but many asked her to stand at the edge of the photo, would ignore her when asking for hugs, and there were mumbled things said about her not belonging, but she just took it with pride. They wanted her there. Patrick, Pete, Joe, and Andy liked her. They want her in their band. She did belong.

            The story was different with the few boys there. They all really liked her, which Joe chalked up to looks. All the guys who had only liked them for their music now finally had eye candy like the girls did.

            “Oh no, now you know our brilliant marketing scheme!” Pete joked.

            As the end of the line drew closer, Payton’s eyes grew tired from the flashes and her hand was stiff from signing things. As she saw the final people enter the room, though, her heart jumped. Standing at the end was a young guy her age, with floppy black hair. He was about Pete’s height, had blue eyes, and was named Skylar Finch. He was staring directly at her eyes, smiling the goofiest, most brilliant smile she had ever seen, and she hadn’t realized until that moment how much she had missed him.

            Pete, exhausted from having to be social for far too long, was grateful as the last person, a twenty something, typical mid 2000’s looking emo kid stepped up with a t shirt for them to sign.

“Skylar!” Payton screeched, jumping at him and embracing him in a tight hug. Unjustified anger welled up in Pete’s chest.

“I’m guessing you two know each other?” Pete asked, but he was ignored. They were lost in conversation already.

“I had no idea you were coming” “I’ve missed you so much!” “Of course I didn’t forget about you!” “How is Kate? Victoria? Michael? Your mom?” “Being a member of Fall Out Boy must be so cool now!” “How is your band?” “Not as good since our singer left to be on the Voice!”

Pete was tired of being ignored. “Hey, guys we’re on a schedule. Can we do this later?”

Payton’s face brightened. “Yeah, after the show, meet us back here.” She turned to the guys. “Can we give him something so he can get back here?” They arranged an item and let Marcus know what was up, took a photo with Skylar (he put his arm around Payton affectionately, which royally pissed of everyone but Joe) and went back to their rooms to wait for the show to start, since they had done sound check before the meet and greet.

 

Back in the room, Pete let his emotions override his better judgement. “Who was that?” He said bitterly. He had no idea what was coming over him. Jealousy was not something he prescribed to.

“One of my best friends from back home.” She said quickly. Though, she admitted to herself, he wasn’t exactly just a friend anymore, was he? In the short amount of time between her losing Jacob and her moving to LA, she had come to him for comfort many times—just like she was doing now with Pete.  Just like she had done with too many others. But, Skylar was the first.

“Oh.” He tried to calm down. He was just her friend. Just a friend. She is allowed to have friends, right? He didn’t own her. He just cared about her being happy. What had made him so angry and jealous? It was the look on his face. When Skylar looked at her, there were two feelings fighting for space in his eyes: painful regret, and lustful desire. That didn’t just make Pete jealous, it terrified him. Why? Because when he looked at her, he swore his eyes showed the same thing.

 

 

Part 4

 

“You always say that the first show is the best show, and then the next, and the next, and the next. Then the last is the best. Every show is the best.” Joe and Patrick were discussing the various merits of the show as Payton and Pete looked for Payton’s friend.

“I told him to meet me here, just beside the stage…” but just as she expressed her concerns at his absence, he made an appearance. Pete refused to react again.

“Payton! You rocked! I loved how you were moving out there. Very hot.”

She giggled. “Thanks!” then, more quietly so only her, Skylar, and an eavesdropping Pete would hear, “But, you would know my moves the best, right?”

They all decided to talk about stuff over the take out food that one of the tour managers had retrieved for them before they left on the road to the next show, in Milwaukee. After almost an hour, Payton was so exhausted she fell asleep on Patrick’s shoulder, and his face was resting on her, about to follow her suit. Joe and Andy were on the bus. It was just a half conscious Pat, Pete, and Skylar now.

“She’s doing it to you too, isn’t she?” Skylar said out of the blue, after their conversation about guitar petals dulled.

“What?” Pete asked.

“She’s sleeping with you. She’s saying she loves you. She says she wants to be with you. Don’t believe it.”

Pete was astonished. “You—and her—you? What? And she said she loved you? Also, Payton is not a liar. She is a very kind girl. I trust her!”

“She’s not a liar, no. She genuinely feels like she cares, but she is just running around trying to patch up all the holes in her that can never be filled. At least, not easily. They were around before she lost Jake, but losing him caused all the patches to be ripped off, and now all that is left is an empty shell of what she used to be.”

            Pete didn’t know what to say. “But—“

            “She seems a bit better here, with you guys, but, I’m warning you. I see it in the way you look at her. She already has you. You’re in too deep. She won’t stay. She likes guys like us, but she doesn’t need us. I don’t know what she needs, but people who cater to her every whim are not that. She wants spice.”

            “I give her spice, dude. You have no idea what you’re even talking about! You’re mad because she ran off to because famous and left you—“

            Skylar stood up. “No, you don’t understand. I care about her but I gave up on that a long time about. She is broken, Pete, and not in a ‘everyone is broken’ cutesy way. She needs to figure her life out, and you can’t do that for her.” When Pete didn’t respond, Skylar continued. “Let me guess: you bring her coffee all the time, tell her she’s beautiful, you never fight. You have great shower sex. You’re best friends right? Just, friends with benefits. Nobody is allowed to know.”

            Smug, Skylar scoffed at Pete. That was the last straw. “Leave. Now. It was nice to meet you and I am glad that you made her happy but this is none of your business. Please, go.”

            Calmly, he grabbed his backpack and was escorted out. “I warned you.”

 

            Settling back down, Pete looked at Payton, who thankfully was still fast asleep, only to notice that a certain other person was not.

            “You’re having sex with Payton?” Patrick asked, his face unreadable.

            Pete was not ashamed of this fact. Actually, if Payton would let him, he would scream it from the rooftops. He would scream that he was sleeping with her. That her hair smelled amazing. That she knew intimate places on his skin better than almost anyone. He wanted to scream that he loved her. But she wouldn’t let him.

            “Yes, we are sleeping together. We have been for a while. We are not a couple, though.”

            “Yeah, that guy said you probably weren’t. I’m just, surprised, that’s all.”

            Pete was sad that they had hid it so well. “Really? Why?”

            “Well,” Patrick started, “I thought she had a thing for me, to be honest.”

            Pete did not want to discuss this right now, but Patrick pressed on. “She does, dude. She does. But we have needs, and you are an idiot and you wouldn’t respond to her and she thinks I’m hot, okay?”

            Patrick pondered for a moment. “So she’s only been involved with you?”

            Pete wasn’t sure how to answer that question. First, depending on your definition of involved, Andy could be a candidate. She for sure was with Joe for a short night. However, that wasn’t Pete’s story to tell.  “I have no idea, ‘Trick. But, don’t let this taint her for you. She really does like you, dude. She never stops talking about you.”

            Patrick looked down at the pretty face that was in his lap. He couldn’t deny there was something there, but knew that if things got messy, and the inevitably would, then his band would be in jeopardy. However, she was very nice to him, and kindness was the most attractive quality a person could have, in his opinion. So…

 

 

 

 

 

 

           

           

 

           

 

 

           

 


	6. Milwaukee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Milwaukee for a short break in the tour, Payton gets caught by the troubles of her past again, and creates further strain in the band. 
> 
> Most of this Chapter is actually through Andy Hurley's POV (you're welcome).

Chapter 4

 

            “Turn here.” Andy said to the driver as they approached his home in Milwaukee. The guys and Payton would be camping out here for a couple days, do a few radio shows, play a concert, and then move on.

            “Are we there yet?” Joe mumbled, barely coherent, from behind them. It was well after midnight, and Pete, Payton, and Patrick had woken Joe and Andy up as they entered the bus to leave, so they were beat.

            “Yeah.” Andy replied as the bus parked on the side street. “Get your stuff. I’ll wake up everyone else.” Andy was exhausted. He was always the first dude up, unless Pete was in one of his moods, and his own bed was just on the other side of those walls, calling to him. “Psst, Pete, Pat. Payton. Get up. We’re here.” Patrick drowsily awoke, followed by Pete. He grabbed his and Payton’s things. They got the guest room on the second floor, next to him. Andy had caught on that they were sleeping together, so he wasn’t too surprised that they would be bunkmates for the next few days.

            Payton still hadn’t woken up yet, and since Andy was far too tired to think of anything else, he approached her bed and scooped her up in his tattooed arms. She never even moved a muscle or made a sound as he walked with her to his front door, through his kitchen, up the stairs, and laid her on the bed. He was mildly worried that she might be in an actual coma.

            Pete recognized his worry. “She’s fine. She sleeps like a rock. She’ll sleep through several alarms!”

            Andy smiled, but less because Pete was funny and more because Payton looked so serene for once. “Yeah, well, you better not try anything or she’ll become MY bunkmate.” As he left he turned around for a final look, and saw a half-naked Pete cover her up and climb in to bed next to her. He might have been a bit jealous.

 

 

 

            Payton woke up confused, in a strange house, in a bed with Pete, her heart heavy. Looking at her phone, she suddenly realized why her heart was heavy. It was May 10th.

            Pete shifted, startling her. Gently, the crept out of bed and realized she was still in her concert clothes. She though she must look like a wreck, so her first goal, after locating her overnight bag, was to find a shower. As she crept from the room she realized that nobody else would probably be awake, except probably Andy.

            Suddenly, she heard movement down the hall, so she went to investigate. Steam was flowing out from underneath a door at the end of the hall. She put the pieces together and realized it was a bathroom, which meant a shower, which was the first step on her road to normalcy today. She was startled when Andy stepped out wrapped only in a towel, his solid, lean muscles covered in water and his hair dripping. At first her lower gut clenched, reminding her how physically attracted to him she actually was, but then she realized that is was May 10th, and the excitement faded.

            Andy had definitely noticed the way that Payton was looking at him as he ran into her outside the shower; the poor girl was not at all subtle. Inside it made him question her supposed relationship with Pete. What was she really doing? How could she get drunk and mess around with Joe, have sex with Pete ‘discretely’ (they all knew—they were not discreet), look at Patrick like the sun shone out his ass, and awkwardly avoid himself all the time while visibly lusting after him at the same time. Her head must be a confusing place.

            She looked tired, too, Andy thought as she laughed, made a self-deprecating joke, and then went inside to take a shower. He toweled off, feeling refreshed and clean after his morning workout, and bounced down the stairs to make breakfast. When Pete came down the stairs more than half an hour later he had finished his vegan muffin, was on his second cup of coffee, and was sorting through his mail.

            “Hey, dude. Good morning. Where is everyone?” By everyone, Andy knew that Pete clearly meant Payton, but he wasn’t going to say anything.

            “Payton left this note to you on her way out a few minutes ago.” She had folded it up and laid it on the counter, telling Andy bye on her way out. He wasn’t worried. She was a big girl, she could take care of herself. Pete immediately sprung for the note and read it quickly, mouthing the words under his breath.

            Panicked, he summarized it to Andy. “She said she was going out for the day—where could she go? She has no idea where anything is!”

            Andy, immediately feeling like an overworked Dad, sighed. “Pete, she probably just wants a little space. Take a day to yourself for once, dude.” Taking his own advice, he got up to put on his shoes to go out and do the stuff he had planned for the day, including visiting some tattoo artist friends, lunch with some friends, and dinner with his mom, who he had been really missing at this point.

            “But, what if she hurts herself?”

            “Pete, you can’t treat her like a child. She’s an adult. You were doing crazier shit than this when you were a lot younger than her. She has a phone. She’s fine. If I were you, I wouldn’t try to track her down, either.”

 

 

 

 

            Several hours and dozens of texts later, Pete had not followed Andy’s advice. After dinner with his Mom, he had agreed to go to a bar with his friends, though they all knew he wouldn’t be drinking. It would be nice to see them all again. Pete had been trying to find Payton all day long, but hadn’t caught up to her yet. To be honest, Andy was starting to get a little worried, too. She had been gone for a long time with no contact. She at least could have responded to Pete’s texts. That would be the decent thing to do.

            His friend Craig was on his 3rd shot, which was the limit he always set for himself in public. This made Craig just tipsy enough to be really smooth, pick up a cute girl, and bring her home. Usually these girls were just looking for one night stands, but occasionally she would stick around for a few weeks until it fizzled out again and Craig would once again be sitting in the corner of the bar getting up the courage to hit on a girl. Andy had not yet turned around to see the girl that Craig was after this time, but he’d mentioned something about fiery red hair.

            “Dude, she’s just sitting there, taking a few sips of her drink. Is she wasted? I don’t know. I should go talk to her. Andy, should I go talk to her?”

            “Craig, we aren’t in high school. Go talk to the girl. If she rejects you come back here to lick your wounds and we can talk about Packers football again.”

            Andy’s other friends, Harper, Linda, and Jeffrey were all watching Craig’s exploits, but Andy had been distracted all night. He was trying to figure out how to resolve whatever was happening with Payton in a way that wouldn’t cause the band to self-destruct. She was really smart—he knew that, but obviously something was up. She had told him about her ex-fiancé a few times before, and what had happened. If that was what caused a lot of her troubles, then he totally understood. She still needed help, though.

            Suddenly he realized all his friends were staring at Craig. He turned around and looked through the crowd to see the very hot redhead was passionately, but sloppily, kissing his friend at the edge of the bar. It was only when they pulled away for air that Andy realized that the girl whose pants Craig had his hands down was actually Payton, and she was very, very, very drunk.

            Immediately, he got up. He tried to walk towards them calmly but he was calm 99% of the time and part of him was extremely angry at that moment, but not at any particular person. As he approached them he pushed them apart using his hands on their shoulders. Craig looked offended.

            “Dude, this is my friend. I need to take her home. I’m sorry, but you’ll need to find another girl.” Without any more words, he grabbed Payton in a bear hug, which she struggled in, and drug her kicking outside the bar. On the street he let her mostly go, but retained control of one hand so she couldn’t run away.

            She was screaming at him. “Andy! Let me go. Fucking. Fuck. Let me go. I was having fun. You can’t tell me what to do!”

            He normally wouldn’t sink to her level, but he was annoyed, and she was out of control. “Payton, you’re wasted. I’m taking you home right now. Stop! Stop struggling. I will carry you to my car if I have to, Payton.”

            Suddenly her demeanor changed. She stopped struggling altogether and stepped onto the narrow sidewalk beside him.

            “Okay, you’re good now? No more fighting me? You know I just want you to be safe and –“ She pushed him against the wall forcefully. He could have resisted easily but she startled him. She fiercely kissed him and rubbed her entire body against his. He knew he should immediately push her away. He could have. But he didn’t. Instead, he let her use him to blow off whatever steam she had left for 15 or so seconds before pushing her away. But, in a way, she had won. He was hard for her now. He had let it happen too long. He wondered what the hell she was thinking when she did that, and why the hell she had just stepped back easily when he pushed her away.

            She was standing still on the sidewalk. He had leaned over, hands on his knees, trying to remind himself why he can’t take her back home, up to his room, to finish what they had just started. Life wasn’t fair.

            “I’m sorry. I want to go home.” She whispered.

            His breathe had returned, so he put his arm around her shoulders securely. “Come on, you mess.” He acted like her hands had not just been down the front of his pants. She acts like his thigh hadn’t just rubbed between her legs. They both were teases, apparently.

 

            On the way home, she explained what had happened. She’d done nothing good all day. She went to a park and cried on the dock to a small lake. She walked through wedding planning stores alone. She listened to music for hours and hours while lying on a city bench. Finally, in the evening, she had barhopped until she ran into Craig, with the intention to sleep with the first guy that asked, because Pete was being too emotional and she was tired of having feelings.

            “You know,” Andy began, “that really isn’t healthy.” She looked down at her hands, the buzz slowly wearing off. She was ashamed of herself. “I mean, you know how I feel about alcohol, but when you are sad like this it doesn’t help you to isolate yourself.”

            Too closed off to accept his help, she became hostile. “You know, Andy, I didn’t exactly ask for your help.”

            “Well, you sure looked like you needed it.” They pulled into the driveway to Andy’s house. It was 2:30 am and all the lights in the house were off. “And you definitely acted like you were glad to see me.” He said mockingly, referencing her earlier intoxicated impromptu make-out with him. He got out of the car and walked around to let her out on her side in case she was still unsteady on her feet.

            Mostly sober, she was feeling emotionally vulnerable but also pissed at him for judging her lifestyle, even if he was right, and what he was saying did make sense. She decided to do what, at the time, seemed the most logical thing. Seduce him. She gets her meaningless sex, he gets to be outsmarted by a girl he obviously dislikes. They climbed the back gate to go in through the unlocked back door since the guys had locked everything else when they went to sleep. On the back porch there was a soft, clean, patio couch that Payton thought would be perfect to get things rolling out of earshot of the rest of the guys. As they stepped onto the porch she made her move, grabbing his hands and pulling them around her waist.

            “Payton, what are you doing?” He asked, his voice tired of her games, as she kissed his neck.

            “Thanking you for getting me out of trouble.” She decided to amp things up and slid her hands under his t-shirt to feel his firm muscles. Soon, her act wouldn’t be just an act anymore. She actually was thirsting after him quite a bit at this point.

            “Payton, I know what you are doing an—“

            He was cut off with a moan when her hands wandered under his pants again, and he decided he was just going to let this play out just a bit longer. He had no idea why she was actually doing thing, but knew he was just another pawn in her game. He just had to figure out a way to not let her get what she wanted.

            If he was going to play along he had to do it convincingly, so his lips found her mouth in the dark and he guided them to the patio couch a few steps away. His mouth traced her jawline, her collarbone, the exposed tops of her breasts, as her hands took his shirt off completely. She wasn’t messing around. Now that they were in a laying down position he could really taunt her. While one had unclasped her bra and felt around to cup her breasts his other traveled down to her shorts where they undid the top button and slid under her underwear to tease her.

            Immediately her hips buckled slightly. Her plan was working better than she thought. He was actually going to go through with this, and it was feeling so good. His lips were everywhere, outlining every place on her body. She had completely forgotten that she was supposed to be in mourning. For this short period of time everything felt good.

            And then he stopped. She was in the middle of marking a piece of un-tattooed flesh on his neck with a hickey when he just got up and pulled his shirt back on and started to walk back to the front door, leaving her wanting more.

            “Wait, Andy, where are you going.”

            He turned around and she could barely see his face in the moonlight. “I’m sorry, Payton, but you and I both know you don’t love me, you don’t intend on being in any sort of relationship with me, and you are just using me to cover up some real issues you have. I refuse to participate. Go to bed.”

            She grabbed his arm, rather desperately. She needed more of him. He couldn’t just leave her after teasing her that much. “But you played along. Just now. That was so great!”

            “I was giving you a taste of your own medicine. Now go to sleep. Or go sleep with Pete. Or anyone else but me, because I will not encourage you. Now, if you want to actually deal with all this pain over what happened with Jacob logically and healthily, I would love to help you. But I am not another one of your sex toys.”

            He left her on the porch in the cold summer air. She was trying not to cry. She realized that she may have just alienated one of the people who actually cared about her with her actions, and for a moment she was remorseful.

 

            Back upstairs she saw that Pete was still awake, playing on his phone. He immediately realized that something was wrong, but was too ecstatic with joy to see that she was okay to worry too much. He wrapped her in a very tight hug and kissed the side of her neck. His kisses felt much less precise than Andy’s. Comparing them was weird.

            “Hey, what is wrong? Where were you today?”

            They sat on the edge of the bed. Payton, still turned on, was acutely aware of how little distance there was between them. She leaned into him more, laying her face on his bare chest. “I just needed some alone time. I got a little drunk, Andy picked me up, but I’m sober now. I was just thinking of Jacob too much, you know?” Realization flashed across Pete’s face.

            “Oh. I am so sorry. You should have told me. I may have been able to help. Is there anything I can do now?”

            “No. I mean, I just feel so lonely sometimes, you know?”

            He smiled at her like she was the sun and he was a tree. “I think I may be able to help with that actually.” He leaned in to kiss her, unaware that he had fallen into her trap. Hungrily, they removed each other’s clothes. Her hands traced every perfect line along his shoulders. She kissed his tattoos. She tangled herself around his torso. He ate it up. He would do anything he could to get her to trust him, to really and truly love him. After each time this happened he would think maybe, just maybe, this time.

           

           

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
